


Loser’s Requiem

by PoisonedMage



Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Dubcon Kissing, Dubious Consent, Experienced Ventus, Frottage, Grinding, M/M, Mutual Pining, Naive Vanitas, Not Canon Compliant - Kingdom Hearts Birth By Sleep, Top Ventus (Kingdom Hearts), Vanitas Is Bad at Feelings (Kingdom Hearts), Vanitas cries, Vanitas-centric (Kingdom Hearts), noncon to dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:21:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27504481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoisonedMage/pseuds/PoisonedMage
Summary: He landed on the ground with a harsh thud, hissing as the impact rattled his skull. There was a crack in his helmet, streaks of crooked light invading the dark frame. The one responsible for it stood above him with a facial expression full of innocence and disbelief.
Relationships: Vanitas/Ventus (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 46





	Loser’s Requiem

**Author's Note:**

> I really just wanted to see these boys grind and Vanitas panic over his feelings. Otherwise my brain be empty.
> 
> Enjoy!

He landed on the ground with a harsh thud, hissing as the impact rattled his skull. There was a crack in his helmet, streaks of crooked light invading the dark frame. The one responsible for it stood above him with a facial expression full of innocence and disbelief. 

Vanitas coughed, tasting copper on his tongue and spat, clouding his view more as red mixed together against the white crack. “Going to stare all day?”

The person above him housing the stupid expression, Ventus, gasped and Vanitas fought the urge to yank him down and strangle him. Sure, it was mostly because his right arm was broken alongside his left wrist, but Ventus didn’t need to know that.

Bottom line, his movement would be minimal. The grass where he lay pricked at his muscle suit. He heaved out a disgruntled sigh. His stomach protested from even that, dramatically reminding him of the roundhouse kick Ventus had blessed him with on his ribs. 

He twitched as he heard the footsteps crunching the grass before the pointed tip of Ventus’ shoe connected with the crack in a series of taps. “You’re done already? Vanitas?”

He  _ really  _ wanted to crush that windpipe. Preferably with his teeth. He gritted them and spoke slowly. “I’m done. You win. Do whatever.”

“Ohhh, that right? I see…” Ventus didn’t look convinced and continued walking around, prodding him. Now that Ventus himself wasn’t obstructing his sight the sun was free to blast his eyes instead. 

Which really wasn’t much difference admittedly. All light was the same, a dogmatic force of shit meant to poison his very existence. Wearing him down until he was nothing but dust. 

He wasn’t afraid. But he was becoming… cautious. Not too long ago Vanitas didn’t think much about the differences between him and Ventus, the source of their strengths, the way these two sides influenced their ability. All he knew was that Ventus was weaker, a mere pawn, and he focused all his efforts on making sure their inevitable merge would be a successful one. 

For that to work he would need to beef Ventus up. He had tried threatening to kill the pawn’s friends, but Ventus ended up calling his bluff. Vanitas relented because Terra and Aqua were capable enough to be annoying. 

Ventus was all that really mattered in the end. To force out skills necessary, their “game” was created. A game Ventus had no choice but to play. He was scared enough to be stupid and think participating would keep Vanitas away from his friends. 

Stupid do what stupid does. Vanitas let Ventus think he didn’t have control, basking in the confidence that his  _ better  _ half would soon be broken down. Once Ventus’ soul was crushed they would be able to join seamlessly and the emptiness festering in Vanitas’ chest would be contained.

Or so it would have gone… if Vanitas hadn’t started losing. There were rules to the game they played, a simple near death sparring match that would leave one of them at their wits end. Whoever lost would have to suffer whatever the other person chose, generally for thirty minutes depending on what world they were in at the time of the fight. 

Radiant Garden. There were worst places to admit defeat, but this place was especially detrimental to Vanitas. It had more protections than most worlds, with a longer than average daylight cycle. Just knowing it would be light out for a few extra hours was enough to set him on edge. 

Not to mention the abundance of fauna, strange smelling orchids that overwhelmed his senses compared to the barren desert he called home. There was too much life here, it swallowed him whole, crowding him in the darkest of shadows before they burned him with no hesitation. 

A numbness in his fingers set in as Ventus felt his arm and Vanitas let out an inhuman snarl as he felt a bone get locked back in place. A correction, the precise movements of the flame erasing any inconsistencies. This place was calm and unflinching in whatever concept of goodness his useless half liked to project. 

He didn’t need pity from a pawn. “Wasting your time to fix me up is a mistake.” Vanitas swallowed whatever blood was left in his mouth his body wanted ejected. Pain curled in his stomach and he winced. 

Ventus’ voice was sickly sweet like the scent of the flowers around him. “It’s not a complete fix. But since it was the worst injury you had I wanted to take care of it.”

Vanitas rolled his eyes. “Waste.” He tested the strength of his fingers, still staying on the ground. The only thing worse than losing was getting treated well after the fact. “I’ll be fully recovered soon. Better choose fast.”

Ventus’ choices were always bizarre to him. The first time he won he ordered Vanitas to stay still, take off his helmet, and touched his cheeks and face. The second time he told Vanitas to tell him about what his master was like, all while clasping their hands together. And the third time…

The third time Ventus brought over a basket of food and ordered Vanitas to eat everything inside. It puzzled and irritated him. After all they weren’t friends and never would be friends, they were two halves that needed to be in the same body. 

He hated Ventus with every fiber of his being, and this hatred had been free to grow each day. He wouldn’t be bribed by food or any other sentimentality tricks up Ventus’ sleeves. 

Vanitas’ voice was low as he restructured his resolve. “Does the lonely waste of space want to talk to his shadow?” 

A spasm worked its way up his spine, chills settling and spreading as blonde, upswept exploding locks of hair blocked the sun. The face he had judged poorly before was now directly in front of him. 

Ventus lifted a single finger, tapping the helmet again. “No. For the rest of our time I don’t want the shadow to speak.” 

The one who talked too fucking much was the one giving demands. Vanitas’ eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth but then closed it, realizing he didn’t care. Soon this would be over and then he could sulk in peace before jumping into planning his next attack. Rules were rules, and Vanitas needed to keep Ventus trapped in this game long enough for it to matter.

Though as much as he hated to admit it, Ventus was getting stronger at an alarming rate, one that was nearly enough to allow them to survive the merging process. It was all faster than he had expected. Soon Vanitas would never have to see his light in this way. They would be one and the annoying voice would disappear from this world alongside his own. So he complied and sealed his mouth shut. 

Ventus hummed then and started… exploring. This was something Vanitas was already familiar with. The touches along his arms, his abs, the attention to detail as fingers worked and dug into his pressure points along sensitive skin. 

Normally Ventus liked to do this for some reason near the end of their time. He would usually finish it by requesting Vanitas to take off his helmet before connecting their lips. Vanitas had no idea what any of it meant, and the red faces Ventus would make afterwards just confused him. 

Regardless, he wouldn’t ask because whatever weird things Ventus was doing wouldn’t matter in the end. All it took was a rushed tapping on his helmet to know Ventus wanted it gone. Vanitas detached it with his good hand, ignoring the pain in doing so from his wrist. 

Ventus stared and Vanitas wet his lips. It was an unconscious thing he normally did right after taking off his helmet, but Ventus’ eyes followed the movement and Vanitas frowned. Right. Ventus was weird. 

The hand that had been used to signal his helmet away was now resting near his chin. Ventus ran his index finger over Vanitas’ lips and shuddered. “Open them.”

This too wasn’t new. The last time, after the picnic he was forced to endure, Ventus had told him to do that. When he did Ventus had moved real close and pressed their mouths together, breathed into him. He only did it once and then by that time his thirty minutes were up and Vanitas left as soon as he could. 

His own lips still felt off, as if the pressure of Ventus’ mouth was still there. It was not… particularly  _ unpleasant _ , but that just made Vanitas more wary of whatever Ventus had done.

What Ventus was doing now. Their lips were together again, and the warmth of Ventus’ breath rushed over him as he heard the one above him sigh. Was he content? Was there something about Vanitas’ lips that Ventus needed?

What about his mouth was so fascinating? Nothing good ever came of it, only words charged with pain, the growls locked in his throat whenever the pain was too hard to bear, or an unverse feeding off his memory. 

What could Ventus want with any of that? Ventus’ mouth was warm, his lips tasted light and airy, it was a different feeling from the misery and dread that thrived in Vanitas’ mouth. And he-

Vanitas’ eyes widened. Ventus’ mouth was still on his, but now he felt something wet pushing his lips open. It easily broke through in the wake of Vanitas’ confusion and shock, and Ventus pushed a little more. 

Vanitas made a noise cross between a startled gasp and a whine as Ventus’ tongue swirled around. He didn’t understand what Ventus was doing. It made no sense in his brain. 

And it felt… no, he couldn’t. Vanitas moved both his hands up to push but Ventus seemed to have anticipated this. He grunted in pain as his bad wrist was gripped alongside his sensitive arm and both of his hands were pinned next to his head. Next he tried to jerk Ventus off with his own hips, but Ventus shifted his weight down in response. 

The material of Ventus’ baggy pants squeezed at the side of Vanitas’ hips. He couldn’t move and the thrill of it all sung loudly in his ears. There was a pressure building inside him, one that was new and one he didn’t trust. The feeling in his lips was spreading and now his whole body was shaking. 

_ What is he doing to me? Why isn’t it hurting?  _

Pain was something Vanitas knew intimately, he trusted it. He hated Ventus, all Ventus had brought him was pain. He was sure all of this would lead to more of that. 

Nothing made sense otherwise. Whatever magic Ventus was trying to force feed him wouldn’t change that. He had always known that, so the weird feelings coursing in his chest would be ignored. He needed to get away from Ventus.

_ Bite him.  _

He wanted to, then Ventus would stop tasting him and torturing his body. But Ventus had him pinned, and he hadn’t recovered enough to be able to easily fight him off. Still though… yeah, he didn’t have a choice. He needed to risk it. 

Vanitas braced himself, darkness pooling around him, and then Ventus released him, pulling back with an expression Vanitas couldn’t read. The blue showing in Ventus’ eyes was darker, nearly encroached entirely black. Ventus licked his lips slowly, like he was savoring whatever flavor he had discovered in Vanitas’ mouth. 

When he spoke there was a touch of something, something Vanitas didn’t have words for. “Vanitas, relax. It’s just a kiss.”

_ A… what?  _ The game had washed away from his mind, but he still couldn’t speak. He didn’t want to open his mouth right now. He decided to just keep glaring, sending as much malice as he could through his eyes alone.

It didn’t seem to affect his shameless half. In fact, Ventus looked even more excited. When he spoke his voice was low, threading its way through Vanitas’ patience with more abrupt sweetness. “That’s what I was doing. You know, like before?” 

Before he hadn’t used tongue. Vanitas swallowed. His mouth felt different, like it didn’t belong to him. Surely it didn’t, because this was strange. The way Ventus studied him, and the fact that he wanted to open his mouth again and- 

He gritted his teeth, turning his head to the side. 

“Vanitas… it didn’t hurt, right?” 

No. That’s what made it wrong. Vanitas slowly turned his head back then spat. He had to show disgust, he couldn’t Ventus know this about him. 

Ventus was still unfazed, except now his eyes were wild. His grin grew and he quickly wiped the spit away from his brow, humming. “It feels good. You don’t like that.” 

Vanitas narrowed his eyes and said nothing.

“That’s okay. But you know the rules. You’ll have to deal with feeling good a little longer.” Ventus smirked. “This isn’t magic. It’s not a trick. So you won’t be able to stop it.” Ventus exhaled slowly, his voice rough. “Unless you have the strength to get me off.”

Vanitas had awoken something deadly. Whatever he was fueling in Ventus, fighting him was also going to add to that wild look. Vanitas had lost and he could do nothing to push back, especially when this involved things he didn’t know. 

These… physical sensations was something Ventus was an expert in. Something Xehanort clearly didn’t think was important to teach. But this too was a fight, a fight that involved their bodies. 

Vanitas steeled himself and let his face go blank. He didn’t know what information Ventus was getting from him, but he wasn’t going to let anymore through. He was just going to have to counter any  _ good  _ trickling through his body and stomp that out. 

He started with digging his nails tightly into the palms of his hands. The bleeding was a welcome sign. Familiar. 

Ventus laughed above him. “This isn’t about fighting. This is about you surrendering, Vanitas. Surrendering and admitting what you want.” 

He’d rather die. Admit to wanting any of this? Vanitas huffed and his body twitched. He shook his head. 

“Well, maybe not today. But soon. I just have to keep winning, right?” Ventus smiled, and now his expression was bashful, almost guilty. “I want to be fair after all. That’s what you want, both of us to suffer together? You can’t do that unless I make you understand.”

_ You talk too much _ . Vanitas blinked once and let out an exaggerated sigh, digging his nails in more, showing complete disinterest. Inside though he was raving. Ventus was suffering? But from what? What did this have to do with that? Vanitas wanted to understand but he fought it. 

His curiosity however pried his gaze back when Ventus lifted the tattered, frayed skirt at his hips. Ventus tilted his head, then rested a hand directly in between his legs, running his thumb idly against Vanitas’ crotch. “I have a question for you. Is all of this your skin?”

Skin? Did Ventus think this suit was all that he was? The question almost made him laugh but he couldn’t. It was taking all of his effort just to breathe. 

Ventus was… that thumb was pressing against Vanitas in an area he had never consciously thought about, in a way he never considered but it didn’t just feel good. There was something messy about it, the sensations in his stomach were spreading and his crotch was on fire. 

He shook his head. Obviously, that wasn’t his skin. But Ventus’ ministrations might as well have been directly against it, because his skin didn’t feel the barrier his suit was providing. Ventus sped up his thumb, rubbing circles in an upward motion and then Vanitas felt his body change. 

He felt harder, more exposed everywhere Ventus was rubbing. A sound broke past his lips and Vanitas choked on it. He knew Ventus heard it, it was pointless with how close they were, but he had tried to hide it anyway. 

Vanitas felt… embarrassed. He had never been this confused in all his existence. But the facts were starting to mean less and less to him. Who cared? Whatever Ventus was doing he wanted him to keep doing. Regardless of whether he knew what it was, his body had decided it needed it. The rest of his swarming thoughts were getting pushed away. 

His hips bucked up against Ventus’ hand. Just once, but the friction ate at his brain. He  _ definitely  _ needed more of that. 

“Ahhh, Vanitas.” Ventus pressed his hands directly on those hips, pressing down. “Not yet.”

Vanitas growled. This wasn’t fair, his body was acting out on its own! How the hell was he supposed to know? He whined and turned his head away, trying to wrestle all the unfamiliar feelings back. 

Ventus laughed. He fucking hollered and Vanitas’ hands twitched. “It’s okay, I got you. I wasn’t going to stop.” 

_ Then hurry the fuck up.  _ Vanitas bit into his own bottom lip. How could he think any of this? What was he even asking Ventus to do? 

Why did he need this so badly? What kind of suffering was this? 

Ventus hummed again, running his fingers through Vanitas’ hair. “I feel it too. I’m sorry… but I want us to finish at the same time. I’m going to start again, okay?”

A part of him wanted to act indifferent still. That stubbornness that had helped him survive countless nonstop hours of training under Xehanort. But none of it remained. Instead he nodded once, letting Ventus touch him, closing his eyes and focusing on what was happening at his hips instead of pushing it away.

He wouldn’t be able to fix himself otherwise if he didn’t pay attention to what Ventus was doing. So he waited and found every muscle in his body releasing. The grass seemed to be cushioning him now. It prepared him for the change when Ventus shifted. 

His hand wasn’t there anymore. Instead, Ventus’ hips had his locked in once more, except now Ventus was fully pressed against him, eliminating any space that existed between their bodies. The pressure was stronger than anything a single finger could do. 

Vanitas slowly turned his head, staring at their hips. Ventus wasn’t sitting on him per se, not like before when the purpose was to keep Vanitas still. Though he doubted he could move given how… sensitive that area of his body was. 

He looked up into Ventus’ unfocused eyes. They were looking in his direction but Ventus didn’t really seem to be paying attention to him. This gaze was piercing through him and when Ventus’ hands curled into his shoulders, Vanitas’ felt like something in him was about to break. Something in them both. 

Why else would Ventus be bracing himself this way? Was he in a trance? 

The questions gushed and pushed down with the speed of a waterfall. Vanitas would have drowned in them if Ventus’ hadn’t started moving. 

It was so minuscule Vanitas thought he had imagined it, but there was no mistaking the pressure building between his legs. The sounds around him, the smells narrowed until he could only keep track of two things. 

Ventus’ shaky breaths, fully rounded inhales flowing into the next exhale in a rough way, as if he had just gotten hit. The fabric of his pants folded in on itself, crinkling as he moved his hips forward, just a few inches, and then back. 

Vanitas’ mouth popped open outside of his control. There was a sound he made, he couldn’t tell what it meant. The most similar thing he could think of was when he was getting hit in the stomach, but there was no pain here. 

The sound brought light back into Ventus’ eyes. He looked pleased. Vanitas wasn’t sure how to feel about that, but he didn’t ponder on it for too long. 

Ventus was moving faster. It was as if their hips were glued to each other, Ventus’ thighs were clamped so tight against him it made the friction at his core that much more concentrated in the unknown zone between his legs. Ventus’ crotch pressed hard into him with each slide he made forward. 

Vanitas swallowed back a sob. Ventus stilled, his breaths louder than before. When he spoke his voice sounded deeper, it reminded Vanitas of his own. “Does that hurt?”

Tears pricked at his eyes as he shook his head. His thoughts lodged in his throat, but he pushed one out anyway, a load of frustration bottled up in one word. “Why?”

Ventus’ hands returned to his head. The touch felt… comforting. “Why what?”

“Why doesn’t it hurt?”

The silence stretched on with not even Ventus’ breaths to soften it. Vanitas was afraid. He was afraid and bewildered and…

And he wanted it. He wanted whatever Ventus was giving him to make sense. 

Ventus pressed down, their chests connected, as he whispered the truth against Vanitas’ lips. “I don’t know why it feels this way. It just does.”

So neither of them really knew. Whatever this was Ventus had discovered by accident. This icky, distracting, disgusting thing that Vanitas didn’t realize was something dangerous enough you’d forget your purpose. A feeling you’d gladly die for. 

He blinked once, staring at Ventus’ lips, watching them slowly stretch up in a crooked shape. The sounds leaving them echoed in his mind. “Do you want me to keep going?”

Vanitas gave a slow nod forward. Ventus’ mouth continued its crooked path upwards. 

They rubbed together now. Somewhere down the line it seemed like the right way to move, to match Ventus. Judging by how hard the cocky bastard was panting in his ear, Vanitas figured he wasn’t wrong in bucking his hips now. 

Maybe Ventus had stopped him earlier because it would cut off how long they had left? Vanitas didn’t see why. 

After all, it had been a lot longer than thirty minutes and they were still grinding into each other as if one of them was going to be snuffed out the second they relented. There was a sense of urgency, he could tell there was a time limit to how much his body could sustain feeling like this. 

Any longer and he was as good as dead. Something was hammering violently in his chest and Ventus was getting louder in his ears. His cheeks burned, and he vaguely wondered if his face was blood red like Ventus’. 

Their hips were moving in strict, parallel motions, but at one point his body just gave up. He bucked up so hard Ventus yelped above him and all the tension below released. It was wet and spreading along his sides, dripping down his thighs. He felt lightheaded and would have lost consciousness if it wasn’t for how Ventus was gripping him. 

Ventus hadn’t stopped moving and now there was pain. A breath of fresh air, but just as strange now that he was aware. It wasn’t a type of pain he was used to. What had once been overwhelming in one direction was simply swinging in the other. 

Ventus was… so loud. Vanitas wanted to knock him out, but a part of him finally understood. He was used to holding his feelings in, Ventus never had to. Ventura was feeling everything just as strongly without the restraint or shame to block it away.

Still, his ears hurt. Everything in him was dead and he needed a break. “V-Ventus…”

Ventus hadn’t stopped grinding into him, he was whining now. He sounded like he was in pain. Vanitas couldn’t help but be satisfied if only for a second. Suffer together indeed.

He wasn’t sure if this kind of suffering was one he wanted to share. Not if it was one Ventus was better at handling overall.

He let his mind go blank and turned his head. dazed yellow met glazed blue and then Vanitas leaned forward and kissed Ventus in a clumsy, sloppy way. He was proud and relieved that that was enough to halt Ventus’ incessant screams. Ventus moaned into his mouth and more understanding pried Vanitas’ head open as Ventus’ hips gave out. 

It was similar to his. Ventus’ back arched, hips grinding so hard into Vanitas he was sure that area of his body was red. He felt Ventus twitch a few times and his body went still above his. 

Silence. Breaths intermingling. Their lips parted and Ventus closed his eyes before slowly getting up, wobbling as he did. Vanitas could see the dark patch of fabric between Ventus’ legs. Whatever he had released earlier, Ventus had too. 

The thought made him more content than it should have. Vanitas sat up, processing it all in three steady blinks. “.....in the end you were in pain. Who really suffers here?”

Ventus chuckled lightly. “No. I wasn’t.” His eyes were clear, a little lighter. “The suffering happens when we’re apart.”

Vanitas tilted his head. Ventus… was weird. That was the only thing he was sure of anymore. “I’m leaving.”

Ventus waved then started walking off. Just like that. 

Vanitas grabbed his helmet then stepped into a dark portal. The bare dessert kissed his feet with a hot crackle and he welcomed it. Here made sense. Here he…. 

… was alone. 

Vanitas sniffed once and then his stomach revolted. He was on the ground the second his next step hit the dirt, hands gripping the floor as he hacked up every feeling burdening him, spewing it in chunks.

One, two, three… five? No.

The unverse was massive. It towered over ten feet, the largest one he’d ever created. It was overwhelming. 

It looked like… 

Vanitas raised his keyblade. He raised it but his legs were shaking. His arm screamed. And the unverse in front of him sent him an evil smirk before shrinking back, taking the shape of the light he had just escaped. 

It wrapped its arms around him and Vanitas cried. He cried and stabbed at its back until it dispersed. 

It wasn’t real, no emotion could rival what he had experienced and the fact that his body even tried to make a copy made him feel sick. He had just left and already his body craved?! 

He missed Ventus. He missed the feeling. But worst of all he found his hatred had changed. 

If they merged together would it feel the same? Would he ever be as content as he was just a few moments ago?

He covered his eyes and seared his palms against his sockets, blocking any leaking moisture if need be. He wouldn’t allow that, though the despair was breaking his chest. 

He could just…. lose again? 

Ventus was strong but not strong enough for them to form together. Not really. He had much longer yet, Vanitas was sure of that. He needed to make more unverse, Ventus needed to keep fighting them… 

But Vanitas could keep losing the game. He could let himself have this one feeling other than pain. Just for a little longer… enough to be satisfied, enough to understand. 

He rested on his side thinking of his next attack. He may be planning on losing, but that didn’t mean he needed to make it easy on Ventus. 

Suffering. Suffering together. Maybe that was worth his loss. 


End file.
